Odysson stared at the control panel. His brow creased in a frown and he grunted. ‘What is this big red button at the end of the row?’
‘Don’t push is, sir.’
‘All right, but what is it?’
‘DON’T PUSH IT, SIR.’ The brain coughed. ‘It is the emergency button, sir. It will wrap you in a stasis field and keep you alive till the next Cosmic Big Bang, or until your power crystal runs out.’
‘You had a hard time with those Dreghs?’ Kambisha said.
S-Az gave what could only be a sob. ‘Yes, ma’am. My brain structure was written by a master, ma’am. I was given room to expand, to learn; the pride of his life I was. One thousand eleven years and one day of service yesterday, and never a hitch. But those Dreghs got me down, ma’am.’
‘And one day?’ Kyrus said.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Happy belated birthday, S-Az.’
The AI made a surprised sound. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘What have you been doing those thousand years?’ Odysson said.
‘Drifting, sir. I had been out of the path of that mana quake. My crew and I were searching for a reported-and-lost inhabited planet when it happened. Then the recall came and we were to abandon the search and return to Moigar. There was a fight between those who wanted to obey and those who didn’t. When it was over, I deposed of the bodies, turned off the lights and settled down to observe the universe. It’s a fascinating place, sir.’
‘I’m sure,’ Kyrus said. ‘I wouldn’t have the patience for that. So what happened?’
‘Three years ago, the Dreghs boarded me. They thought to plunder me and destroy my body, but one of them discovered I was awake. It must’ve known about the Foulammer idiocy, for I certainly hadn’t told him. But there it was, I’d become a Dregh ship. Let me tell you, sir; those creatures are disgusting!’
‘I got that,’ Kyrus said. ‘S-Az, keep your hands in your pockets and leave cleaning up until we’ve seen the spaceport. Let’s test this toolbelt. Communicator, you said?’
‘Yes, sir. It allows you to speak while shielded.’
‘It does what?’ Kambisha stared at the others. ‘How? Our shields only allow light waves to pass through.’
‘Yes, ma’am. The comm. turns vocal sounds into mindspeach waves and attaches those to the light waves you mentioned. And of course the other way round.’
‘Light helps mindwaves sneak past the shield? Burpin’ Beavers, won’t that embarrass a lot of highbrow engineers back home?’ Kyrus said. ‘I don’t think they ever thought of the possibility.’ He grinned, shielded up and pressed the comm. button.
‘Does it work?’ Kambisha saw her brother start wildly and look around.
‘Yes!’ he said. ‘Blue bellbottles on a beach, twin; I heard you. My shield’s on and I heard you! That’s terrific!’
‘You’re coming in loud and clear,’ Kambisha said.
Her brother whistled piercingly, and shut off his shield. He patted his belt. ‘This,’ he said reverently. ‘Will make us millions.’
‘It won’t,’ Kambisha said sadly. ‘We’re cut off from the Weal.’
‘Wait,’ Odysson said. ‘It’s what Ky said; Dad and the other rulers may not aid us. Bodrus didn’t mention trade.’
Kambisha sent her mind back to the conversation with Bodrus. ‘You’re right,’ she said finally. ‘He didn’t say anything about trade.’ The thought made her feel better; they weren’t wholly alone then.
‘That gives us two goals,’ Kyrus said. ‘We must go and see about the other bases and whatnot, and we must trade the stuff we find back home.’
Kambisha thought of those brains out there, human and AI, and what might have happened to them. ‘If we find a base, and it’s in lockdown, how do we know what to do?’
‘We’ll ask Athelstan,’ Kyrus said. ‘I’m sure he knows.’
‘Probably.’ Kambisha sighed, suddenly feeling lost. ‘Then we have the base. What will we do with it?’
Kyrus grinned. ‘Why must I tell you the obvious? Those bases will defend the Realm, and if there are any ships, we send them out to find more bases.’
‘We’re about to land, sir,’ S-Az said, and his voice dispelled her moment of gloom.
Odysson looked around, irritation visible in his whole stance.
‘Thunder and Light!’ he snapped. ‘I hate talking to a bodiless voice. Where are you?’
‘Inside the bridge control panel, sir. But if you need a point to focus on when you address me, there’s a picture of a naked Dregh lady on that column behind you. Dirty old Saqq put it there for the same purpose.’
Kyrus burst out laughing. ‘You don’t sound like a nude woman of any sort.’
‘I never was, believe me,’ S-Az said. ‘We have landed, sir.’
The metal door in the hull slid aside, and a short set of stairs rattled down. Cold air wafted in, bringing with it a clean smell that was a relief after the Dregh stink.
Before them was a flat surface of what looked like asphalt. Kambisha jumped down and stopped, gaping up at the sight of the enormous blue-and-white half disk of Firstworld hanging over them.
‘Oh, dear.’ She felt her throat contract strangely.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Odysson said quietly.
‘A lot bigger than we thought.’ Kyrus stared up, hands to his back and legs apart as he scowled. ‘That blue must be the seas. The land... That’s the Continent; it looks like our maps. But you see they’re only part of the planet. The half we can’t see, what’s there?’
No one answered.
Finally, Kyrus stumped away, toward the squad buildings across the field.
CHAPTER 5 – REALMPORT
The spaceport main building was an immense redstone hall with twisted brass pillars, a glass front and potted trees with feathery, bluish leaves. As they approached, the doors swung open without a sound, and Kambisha half expected uniformed porters to greet them, but there was nobody.
‘Impressive,’ she said. ‘It’s far bigger than the Seatome aerodrome building.’
‘Far emptier too.’ Kyrus looked around. ‘At least there aren’t any Dreghs lying in wait for us.’
‘Welcome to Flor 3 Spaceport, Commander.’ The same female voice that had answered S-Az sounded up close, as if she stood before them. ‘Outpost 1148 advised me of your coming. I am the port operator, and I am most glad you will take command here, ma’am.’
Kambisha’s breathing faltered. ‘Take command?’
‘Yes, ma’am. 1148 informed me of your intent to go out and restore the Realm. That means you will need a base, ma’am,’ the operator said reasonably. ‘Besides that, Realmfleet regulations state I must have a human in command. As 1148’s commander you are the senior officer available, so I call on emergency protocol ERX13. Welcome as commander of Flor 3 Spaceport.’
‘Hear, hear,’ Kyrus said, applauding.
‘You’re reaching the top way faster than Mother did,’ Odysson said.
Kambisha hesitated. What do I know of commanding bases? Nothing. But the operator was right, we need a place to stay. Athelstan’s outpost was too remote, and this Flor 3 port was next door to home and... and Mum and Dad.
‘All right then,’ she said faintly, and she hadn’t felt this unsure even on her first day at Tech School. She saw her twin’s huge grin and wanted to box his ears. Instead she squared her shoulders. ‘What is your status?’
‘I have been fully operational even since I was commissioned, ma’am,’ the operator said crisply. ‘The spaceport is open, though Flor 3 is a restricted world and out of bound.’
Kambisha glanced at her companions. ‘Out of bound? That planet up there is our home, Operator. Are you saying we can’t go back?’
‘Of course you can, ma’am. The restriction is meant to keep non-residents out, but residents may come and go as they please.’
‘That’s better,’ Kambisha said, relieved. ‘Why was it issued?’
‘I do not know, ma’am. I have a copy of the
relevant directive, but that is all. It surprised me because your people are subjects of the Realm. All citizens of Firstworld have been declared citizens since before the quake, ma’am.’
‘We are Realm subjects?’ The idea left her stupefied. Another puzzle in this whole unbelievable thing to mull over. ‘It is all very strange. We need to find out what’s behind this.’
‘That won’t be easy,’ Odysson said. ‘Everybody concerned will be dead by now.’
‘Not the brain persons,’ Kambisha said. ‘Maybe that’s a slim chance, but we can try. That’s for later. Now, as this base is our world’s door to the galaxy, I propose to call it Realmport, if that doesn’t scramble the official books.’
‘That will be fine, ma’am. The official designation will be Realmport, Firstworld, Flor 3, according to regulations.’
‘That’s good enough,’ Kambisha said. ‘What about you? Calling you personally Realmport wouldn’t be very nice. Do you have a name we can use?’
‘Ah, Gunild would be fitting, ma’am.’ The operator sounded both surprised and strangely bashful at the question.
‘Happy to meet you, Operator Gunild.’
‘Thank you, ma’am.’ She sounded pleased.
Kambisha wondered what the status of a brain person had been among the Moi. I won’t ask her now, she thought. When we know each other better.
‘As this is your first visit,’ Gunild said. ‘Allow me to explain the lay-out. This building is the Arrival and Departure Hall, the place where travelers can buy their tickets, get information or simply meet other people.’
Kambisha glanced around. It was all very grand. Dark red marble floors, walls in shades of cream and orange lights. A massive black column in the center of the hall, with a handsome desk in front of it. To the left a long counter, and several enormous glass squares, like mirrors that didn’t reflect your image. For a moment she wondered what they were, but then she realized they must be viewscreens like the one S-Az had showed them, only far bigger.
‘The central column in the hall is part of my nervous system,’ Gunild went on. ‘I am connected to the various parts of the port through sub-sections, each with their own, nonconscious AI.’
‘How do you manage those plants or whatever they are?’ Odysson waved at the potted trees.
‘The qanqiri trees? That is Maintenance, sir. Our servors do them every week.’
As to underscore her words, a small box on wheels rolled from a hatch in the wall and came at them, waving a rag and a cloth. It buzzed and beeped and looked like it would wag a tail. Then it turned around and hurried off, picking up some infinitesimal specks of dust as it went.
‘The servor has a dog’s AI, sir. But it manages its tasks competently.’
‘All right,’ Kambisha said. A mechanical dog? ‘What else is there?’
‘Beyond the hall are several offices, the dining room, and a washroom. Upstairs are more offices, the port admiral’s quarters, the gunnery control room, and several high level suites. Below us are three floors. First are the armory, the Marine barracks, and bunkrooms for the base personnel, with the messroom, the sickbay, and the recreational area.
‘Beneath them two floors with two-, three- and four-room apartments for the married personnel and their families, a theater, sports-facilities, and a small shopping center. Ours stand empty, of course, but on other bases these floors will be a village in their own right.
‘Outside are the repair shops. The underground hangar houses two ships—the spaceport tender FL1 with a skipper AI, and the frigate No-R 77. Both are in stasis but fully operational, ma’am.’
‘Doesn’t anything ever break down here?’ Kyrus said. ‘I mean, a thousand years is a long time even for good stuff.’
‘It does, sir,’ Gunild said. ‘But we have the facilities to rebuild everything. We could keep that up for very much longer than a mere thousand years, sir.’
Kyrus nodded. ‘Do you have cargo facilities, Gunild? For loading and unloading ships?’
‘Yes sir, I can handle any sort of cargo.’
‘Great. We took my ship back from a Dregh crew. It is full of the most unbelievable rubbish. Sellable, maybe, but I don’t want it inside. I would like everything that’s not essential to the ship cleared out and stowed somewhere safe.’
‘S-Az 113 was a Dregh captive?’ Gunild sounded disgusted. ‘Poor fellow. That means we’ll have to fumigate him as well, then. Those scavengers aren’t clean.’
‘We noticed,’ Kambisha said. ‘We found they’re not friendly either. Do you have defenses?’
‘Ma’am, I am a Class VIII Liaison-and-Planetary-Defense-System. Whatever hush-hush is going on below me, I will defend the planet against all comers. No Dregh will sneak past my instruments.’
‘Hey!’ Kyrus said, as he stared out at his ship and the small army of servors crawling round it. ‘They’re already at it.’
‘Yes sir,’ Gunild said. ‘Please don’t leave the building right now, Commander and gentlemen; pest control is in progress. We don’t want cockroaches on the base, ma’am.’
‘Certainly not!’ Kambisha said. ‘I think we’ll visit the mess for a cawah and something to eat.’
‘Try the dining room, ma’am,’ Gunild said. ‘It was designed by the same brain artist who did the Fleet House renovations on Moigar.’
‘Some room.’ Kambisha stared at the engraved glass-and-gold entrance. ‘Is this for the crew?’
‘No, ma’am. The building plans state this area is reserved for passengers and guests. The port personnel have their own messroom below, with three thousand seats. Of course you have the use of the port admiral’s facilities on the upper floor.’
They walked into the dining room. ‘A swanky place, this.’ Kyrus said.
His sister could only agree. Marble and carpets, strange wall panels made of some golden wood, enormous paintings of fantastic landscapes, crystal and indirect lightning, and large enough to seat a small army. Soft music that sounded strangely Kellish to Kambisha’s ears and small bouquets of real flowers on every table.
‘First class,’ she said.
‘We could make this place pay,’ Odysson said musingly. ‘By reservation only, one hundred libers per cover. A pity there isn’t a view over the Moon.’
‘There is, sir.’ Gunild said, and the walls shimmered, to be replaced by an all-around view of the lunar landscape. ‘This is a projection, of course. If you wish I could give you a view of Firstworld instead, or scenes from various other worlds.’
‘Two hundred libers,’ Odysson said. ‘This is magnificent.’
They sat down and a small servor came to take their order.
‘We need to plan,’ Kambisha said while they waited for their lunch. ‘We’ve got Athelstan’s list of places to visit, and I’m sure Gunild has her own urgencies.’
‘We won’t do the searching with just the three of us; we need a crew,’ Kyrus said. ‘And a garrison for this place; healers, and engineers, and...’
‘We must go out hiring,’ Odysson said.
‘That’s what I thought,’ Kyrus said. ‘How will we pay them?’
Odysson rubbed his nose. ‘Gunild?’
The operator answered immediately. ‘Sir?’
‘If we needed money, how would we get it?’
‘As a Class VIII Liaison and geared for business, I am a branch office of the Realm Bank, sir. If you need money, I am authorized to create it for you up to the limits of my current main account.’
‘You make coins?’ Kyrus said. ‘Just like that?’
‘That’s the usual method, sir. There really isn’t a difference between turning molecules into an egg sandwich or a bar of gold.’
Odysson sighed deeply. ‘Gunild... How large is this current account of yours?’
‘Just before the mana quake I had a balance of roughly two million nith, which is about the same amount in Firstworld libers. Add to it the accumulated interests over a period of a thousand years... My data processors lack sufficient memor
y, sir.’
‘Oh.’ Odysson speared a big bite of fish. ‘That’s it. We don’t even have to start; we’re rich already.’
‘But that’s not why we’re here,’ Kambisha said. ‘If you just wanted to be rich, you could have done that in your mother’s footsteps.’
Odysson grinned. ‘Of course it’s not why we’re here. But it does make things a lot easier. Not that we can pump unlimited gold into Firstworld’s economy; we would blow it up. But it’s great we don’t need to worry about wages and things.’
‘I will have the application forms in sextuplicate on your desk, sir,’ Gunild said.
‘What desk?’ Odysson said.
‘The base Exec’s office, sir. It is right beneath the commander’s quarters. Captain Kyrus has his ship, so I supposed you would need the space more.’
‘Gods bless, let him have it!’ Kyrus said. ‘Me and offices don’t get along, ma’am.’ Then he muttered and pulled a fish bone from his mouth. ‘Realism gone too far, this.’
‘I’m a little puzzled,’ Odysson said. ‘Is a bank standard for Moi spaceports, or maybe only for those guarding Lesser Worlds?’
‘I... never considered that point, sir. I don’t know.’ Gunild was silent for a moment. ‘Sir, I have checked the files. Every major spaceport has banking facilities, but none of them are on Lesser Worlds.’
‘Then why are you here?’
‘Firstworld isn’t classified as a Lesser World, sir. It has technically the same status as Moigar. That is why you are citizens, sir.’
Odysson munched on a slice of toast and creamy cheese, his eyes far away. ‘Yet we weren’t part of the Realm, were we?’
‘Politically, no, sir. Maybe you would have fully joined at a later date?’
Odysson shrugged. ‘Our rulers don’t even know you exist. No use speculating; let’s focus on the here and now. I don’t think your Realmbank will be recognized on Firstworld, so we need a local bank account as well, and an address.’ He grinned. ‘Obviously, my bedroom at home is not the most suitable place for discrete matters. Guys, tomorrow we’ll go to Seatome, deposit some bullion at the Weal Bank and go recruiting. Gunild, can you produce four pure gold bars of 400 ounces each?’
Firstworld Page 5